


I Forgot That You Existed

by octothorpetopus



Series: Lover [1]
Category: IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon - Book & Movie Combination, Changing Tenses, Eddie Kaspbrak Loves Richie Tozier, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier-centric, Endgame Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier, Gay Eddie Kaspbrak, Gay Richie Tozier, IT (2017)-compliant, M/M, Mike Hanlon is a Good Friend, Modern Era, Movie: IT Chapter Two, Online Dating, Richie Tozier Flirts, Richie Tozier Loves Eddie Kaspbrak, because let's be real in 2019 this is a very real possibility, definitely not IT (2019) compliant though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-30
Updated: 2019-09-30
Packaged: 2020-10-10 06:37:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20523584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/octothorpetopus/pseuds/octothorpetopus
Summary: Twenty-one years after they defeated It for the first time, Eddie Kaspbrak sits in an airport waiting room. Richie Tozier sits in his living room. What brings them back together is not fate or luck. It is a carefully calibrated algorithm designed to put together people with the most compatible traits.But there is no algorithm for love.





	I Forgot That You Existed

"I don't know if you guys noticed, but I don't really have any problems getting some," Richie said, leaning back on his black leather sofa, which squeaked under the butt of his jeans. His two best friends, another comedian named Frank and a bartender named Nina, looked at each other and frowned.

"Yeah, we're not so worried about you not 'getting some.'" Frank put air quotes around the words.

"Well, we kind of are. It's just that the 'some' we're worried about you not getting is emotional fulfillment."

"True." Richie looked back and forth between his friends.

"Guys, I'm not getting a fucking online dating profile. I'm not forty. Stop bugging me."

"Richie, we're worried about you."

"What the hell are you, my mother?"

"Just download the fucking app, Tozier." Frank snatched the phone out of Richie's hand and held it just out of reach. Nina held Richie back as he reached for it.

"You motherfucker, give me my phone back!" Frank didn't respond.

"Say cheese!" He snapped a picture of Richie, who had sat sullenly back down. He typed speedily for a few moments (Frank's typing skills were the envy of all rapid-fire texters), then pressed a button. There was a soft _whoosh _as the profile was posted, and Frank tossed Richie his phone back.

"Fuck you, Frank." The phone chimed and all three of them gathered around to look at it.

"Holy shit," Nina said softly. "You got a match."

Meanwhile, in an LAX waiting room, Eddie Kaspbrak's phone buzzed in his back pocket. He ignored it, focusing instead on the pitch he was mentally writing and the steady sound his suitcase made as he rolled it back and forth in short paces. He hated investor meetings, but it was his company, and he had to get it off the ground if he ever wanted to be anything more than a 34-year-old asthmatic business major with no friends, no life, and no idea where he was going. Metaphorically. Literally, he was going to the Los Angeles Hilton, if his cab would ever get here. His phone buzzed again. He sighed and pulled it out.

_YOU HAVE ONE NEW MATCH _read the notification. He swiped and opened the phone. The wheel in the middle of the screen spun for what seemed like hours. Shitty airport WiFi. Finally, a profile popped up. The guy in the picture was... alright, he guessed. There was something a little oddball about him. And a little familiar, too. But then, maybe he just had one of those faces. Or, he realized, maybe he was a stand-up comedian that he’d seen in New York last year. Eddie smiled to himself, amused by the coincidence. At the time, he had no idea just how deep that coincidence really went.

“He’s kinda cute,” Nina offered and shrugged.

”I don’t know. He’s got sort of a sad puppy look. It’s a little off-putting.”

”Nobody asked you, Frank.”

”Nobody asked you either, Nina.”

”Both if you shut up.” Richie held up a hand to silence them. “Look, if I go on this one date, will you promise to get off my ass about getting a date?” Nina and Frank looked at each other and nodded.

”Deal.”

”Fine, then.” Richie’s thumb hovered above the LIKE button. “But what if-?”

”Oh, just shut up!” Nina exclaimed, and pushed the button for him.

Eddie considered it briefly. He was only in LA for a few days, maybe a week. There would be no second date, no relationship to come from this. Still, he couldn’t quite shake the voice in his head telling him yes, that this was important. And besides, what was the harm? Lots of people only went on one date. He pressed the LIKE button too.

”Fuck me,” he whispered as a message popped up on the screen.

_CONGRATULATIONS!_  
Both of you liked each other!  
_Now you can start chatting._  
Make a date, and hopefully, a connection.

Eddie rolled his eyes. This was the exact kind of cheesy bullshit he hadn't wanted when he had signed up for this app a year ago on a whim. A chat window opened up.

_This is the start of your messages with RICHIE TOZIER_

_RICHIE TOZIER IS TYPING...  
_

Richie had sent Nina and Frank away. He was tired and annoyed and frankly, talking to strangers on the internet (something he vaguely recalled his mother telling him never to do) sounded far more appealing than trying to deal with his friends at the moment. His fingers hovered over the keyboard, hesitating. What could he... say? "Hi, you're kind of hot?" "You ever date a comedian?" Maybe he'd just skip words and go directly to emojis. And then it came to him, a line he used to use on girls all the time back in school (girls who were well-above his league, and he knew it).

_This is the start of your messages with EDWARD KASPBRAK_

_RICHIE TOZIER: I could use some spare change, and you're a dime._

He felt stupid even as he wrote it, but he pressed send before he had a chance to give it a second thought. _Well, _he thought, _there goes that idea. _And then, Edward Kaspbrak started typing.

Eddie was in his cab now, staring down at the absolutely asinine pick-up line he'd just been sent by a man who was at best a 6 and a half. But once again, he had a sense of déjà vu. Not just like he had heard that line before, but like it was somehow meaningful. If it had been anyone else, he was sure he would've ignored the message and moved on. But it wasn't just anyone, and even if Eddie didn't quite know why he remembered Richie Tozier, he wasn't giving up quite yet.

_EDWARD KASPBRAK: You use that line on all the boys?_

_RICHIE TOZIER: I've got a whole library full of them, I don't need to reuse that one._

_EDWARD KASPBRAK: Hey, this might sound weird, but have we met before? I have the weirdest feeling that we have._

_RICHIE TOZIER: I'm pretty sure I would've remembered meeting you, dude._

Eddie flushed scarlet in the back of the cab. He couldn't remember the last time someone had said something like that to him. Truly, he couldn't.

_EDWARD KASPBRAK: I'm probably wrong. Anyway, are you free tonight?_

Richie thought for a moment. He was supposed to go get drinks with some other comedian buddies of his, then maybe crash an open-mic night that they had frequented in their early comedy days. But then he looked back at the man on his phone, the one who looked just a little bit sad even though he was smiling as widely as can be in his picture, and typed out a quick reply.

_RICHIE TOZIER: I actually am. I know a good place, pretty quiet. I'll text you the address. You eaten yet?_

_EDWARD KASPBRAK: Yeah, why?_

_RICHIE TOZIER: The drinks are good, but the food... it's good that you already ate._

Eddie fussed with his hair one last time in the hotel mirror. It just... wouldn't sit right, even though it looked exactly like it always did. And his clothes, all he had was what he’d brought for business meetings and casual dress, nothing like what he’d normally wear on a date. He checked his watch again. He had given himself fifteen minutes to get there, even though the concierge at the hotel told him it’d take maybe ten, if traffic was bad, and since it was a Wednesday it probably wouldn't be.

To say Eddie hadn't been on a date in awhile would be an understatement. He hadn't been on a first date in seven months. He hadn't been on a second date in a year and a half. He hadn't been on a third date in three years. And as for his last real relationship... well, Eddie had never been in a real relationship. Not that he could remember, anyway. In college, there had been a four-month thing with a girl, but that was mostly just to please his mother. He and the girl (Rosa was her name) had been good friends, and still were, but their whole relationship had been something of a friendship with a few awkward makeout sessions thrown in for good measure. The fact that he didn't like women was probably a factor in his disastrous relationships, both with women and with his mother, but she had been dead for three years this October and he was finally living the way he had always meant to. He just... hadn't gotten around to it when she was still alive.

He took one last look in the mirror. He wasn't satisfied, but then, when was he ever? It was a warm early summer night, so he thought he'd walk. Or maybe he shouldn't. There would surely be people smoking outside, and with his asthma...

Similarly, Richie was trying on his third outfit. He had tried just the Hawaiian shirt, then just a T-shirt and leather jacket, and then all three simultaneously. Funnily enough, the multi-layered look was his favorite.

"You got this, Richie." He looked himself in the eyes (through the mirror, not any kind of crazy witchcraft shit), and cracked a grin. "Except that you're talking to yourself. Fuckin' weirdo." But he grew sober, and his fingers tapped nervously against the side of his leg.

Richie didn't date, per se, but he went out a lot, and then went home, usually with a different guy, although he had been known to call up an old flame from time to time. He had dated, and he wasn't necessarily opposed to the idea, but he was, not to toot his own horn, famous. And usually, famous guys, especially ones that weren't classically hot, didn't get dates. They got laid.

His Mustang was parked in the driveway, and even before he started it the wind off the ocean whipped his hair into a frenzy. As he sped off into the Santa Monica sunset, the butterflies in his stomach began to dissipate. This was going to be different. He could feel it.

Eddie had been waiting outside the bar for almost ten minutes. It was his fault, of course, for getting there so early, but the pacing outside the front door did nothing to calm his nerves. Nor did the gentle roar of the cherry-red Mustang that pulled up next to the curb, nor did the profoundly familiar face that got out of it. Richie Tozier walked two paces towards him and stopped in his tracks, his eyes even wider behind his fishbowl glasses than usual. Eddie spoke first, his vocal cords hardly functional.

"Holy-"

"-shit," Richie finished. All of a sudden, everything clicked into place. Why the name had sounded so familiar, and the face had been even more so. Why he had been so nervous in the first place. Eddie fumbled in the pocket of his jacket and pulled out a gray piece of plastic. His inhaler. He took two quick puffs of it and shook his head, as if in a stupor. Richie, who had screeched to a halt upon seeing his childhood friend (and first love, but that was another story), started again, and hugged Eddie with a force he didn't know he had in him. Eddie hugged him back, just as tightly.

"Holy shit, man," Eddie repeated.

"Yeah." They finally released each other and Richie took a step back, looking Eddie up and down. "Damn, Eds. You're looking good."

"So are you." Richie shook his head.

"I feel like such a fucking moron, but... I didn't even realize it was you until I saw you just now. You're going by Edward now?"

"Not... not really. And to tell you the truth, I only thought I recognized you because I saw one of your shows when you were in New York last winter." Richie laughed, deep and warm.

"Shit. Was it any good? Wait, don't answer that."

"It was great."

"Well, um... since we're here..." Richie gestured at the bar's frosted glass doors. "Want to get a drink?" Eddie smiled, and his dimples were craters in his cheeks.

"Yeah. I really do."

The bar was dimly lit, but clean. Eddie took a seat at the furthest end and ordered two glasses of top-shelf whiskey.

"Wow, Eds, you've really come a long way from wine coolers in high school." Eddie cracked a smile and looked down into his glass.

"Rich, can I ask you a... weird question?"

"Shoot."

"I mean, I guess I just... like..." Eddie trailed off, looking for the words. "I didn't know you liked guys."

"Is that a question, or...?"

"Come on, Rich." Eddie sighed exasperatedly. "You know what I mean."

"Well, I didn't know you were gay either, Eds. That is, if you are gay, 'cause..." They both took a long, long sip of their drinks in awkward silence.

"I am. Gay." Eddie nodded with an odd half-smile.

"Oh. Me too."

"It's a hell of a funny coincidence, you know?"

"How's that?" Eddie laughed brightly.

"On the one day I happen to be in LA, we get matched on the one dating app I have, and you just happen to be one of my best friends from high school. How's that for batshit?"

"I'd say we're three for three on the batshit scale." Eddie held up his glass, and Richie knocked his against it. "Cheers, to a night of crazy coincidences."

"Cheers."

"Hey, uh, Eds?"

"Yeah?" Richie bounced his leg on the leg of his stool.

"Is this a date? I mean, it's cool if you just want to catch up, but-"

"It's like I said, Rich. It's a hell of a coincidence, and I think it'd be a shame to pass that up, don't you?" There was a twinkle in Eddie's eyes that Richie wasn't sure he'd ever seen before. He quite liked it.

"Agreed."

The rest of the night passed in a curious sort of way. In some ways, it didn't feel any different than when they'd used their fake IDs to sneak into a college bar in Bangor in their junior year of high school. But in other ways, in all the important ways, it was different. Because this time, there was a chance of something. What, exactly, neither of them could have said. But it was something.

”Shit,” Eddie muttered as he checked his watch. It was quiet, but Richie still turned to look at him.

”What?”

”Nothing, just...” Eddie rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “I have a meeting in the morning. And it’s getting kind of late.”

”Say no more, Eds.” Richie set a thin stack of bills down on the bar and tossed back the last of his drink (he had switched to club soda an hour ago when Eddie reminded him he had to drive.) “I’ll walk you back.”

”What about your car?”

”Eh.” Richie waved a hand. “It’ll still be here when I come back.”

They walked along the busy sidewalk shoulder-to-shoulder, Richie’s hands shoved in his pockets, his shoulders hunched in a familiar posture. Eddie studied him carefully ask they walked, wondering how it was possible that up until tonight, he had forgotten Richie. Forgotten how wonderful he was, how he could make you laugh with just a twitch of his voice. 

At the same time, Richie was wondering how it was possible to have forgotten Eddie. The way he ran his hands through his hair when he was on a roll. The way he laughed when Richie interrupted with a stupid joke. In all his years without him, he’d never met anyone quite like Eds.

”Penny for your thoughts?” Eddie asked, his voice rough and clear and deeper than it had been the last time they had seen each other, but still somehow the same. 

“Nothing. Just... I missed you, Eds.”

”Yeah. I missed you too, Rich.” Richie let his hands fall out of his pockets and swing by his sides. They were walking shoulder-to-shoulder, and they were so close that their knuckles brushed every time Richie took a step. His face grew hot and he worried he was blushing, but when he looked over, Eddie was blushing too.

”Isn’t this you?” Richie stopped suddenly and pointed at the building in front of them. Eddie shook himself, as if in a stupor, and nodded.

”Thanks for coming with me, Richie. It was... it was nice to see you again.”

“You’re welcome.” Eddie slipped into Richie’s arms for a last hug (he was surprised at how well they fit together) and stepped back. “I should go.” Richie took two steps backward and smiled. “Take care, Eddie Spaghetti.” Eddie didn’t know if it was the childhood nickname that convinced him to do what he did next, or the coolly smoky Los Angeles air, or the hand of god himself, but whatever it was, Eddie was swept away by his feelings for Richie, letting the warmth and excitement overtake the nervous electricity running through him.

”Richie, wait.”

“Hm?” Richie hummed, and before he had even turned all the way back around to face Eddie, Eddie had his hands wrapped around the collar of Richie’s shirt. He had to stand on his tiptoes in order to reach, but he tugged Richie down just far enough that he could meet Richie’s lips in a kiss, their first kiss since a brief and forgotten moment in a game of truth or dare when they were twelve.

Richie, quite frankly, was not expecting the kiss, but didn’t stumble back or push Eddie away in a moment of panic. Instead, something in him steeled him, and he leaned into Eddie until he was almost falling into him.

”Holy shit,” Eddie said for the second time that night.

”Holy shit,” Richie replied.

“I can’t believe I just did that.”

”I can’t believe you didn’t do it earlier.” Eddie looked deep into Richie’s eyes... and then burst out laughing. 

“You’re something else, Trashmouth.”

”I could say the same for you, Eds.” Eddie mellowed and took one of Richie’s hands.

”Hey, if... if you’re not too worried about your car... do you want to come upstairs?” Richie arched his eyebrows, but nodded.

”Yeah. I do.” And he did.

Eddie woke up to the sound of his alarm (the first of many to keep him on his strict schedule) and found himself unable to sit up. For a moment, he found himself thinking of sleep paralysis and the horrific nightmares that plagued him throughout his college years. And then he realized that there was just a heavy, hairy arm draped over him, the attached hand just barely brushing one of the two star tattoos Eddie had gotten during his very brief rebellious phase. 

"Would you shut that shit off?" Richie's voice came from behind Eddie, clouded with sleep and a hangover. Eddie reached over and hit the snooze button before rolling onto his other side so he was facing Richie, bare chest to bare chest.

"Good morning."

"What time is it?"

"Seven." Richie groaned. "What? I have meetings today."

"Right." Richie rolled his half-open eyes and flopped onto his back. "Or... you could play hooky with me." Eddie smiled and nudged Richie's side with his knee.

"I wish I could, but if I ever want this company off the ground, I need investors. And in order to get investors, I have to go to meetings." Smiling, Richie considered.

"Eh, I don't know. I mean, a limo company? Eds, I get that you've always been practical, but it's just not... sexy." Eddie laughed. "I'm serious." And when Eddie turned to look at him, he was. "Look, you could do anything you wanted. Anything at all. And yet, you chose to start a business you're not passionate about in the dirtiest city in America. That's not the Eddie I know."

"And who's the Eddie you know?"

"The Eddie I know wanted to pick up and move to Italy after high school. And he wanted to be an interior designer, or maybe a city planner. New York's not your home, Eddie, and neither is Royal Crest Limos."

"So what do you think I should do?"

"Move here. To LA." Eddie laughed again, more out of shock than humor.

"Yeah, right. Beep-beep, Richie."

"I'm serious." Richie propped himself up on his elbows and looked into Eddie's eyes. Or maybe his forehead. To be fair, he didn't have his glasses on so he couldn't really see. "What's stopping you? You told me last night you don't have time for friends because you're too busy trying to start a business that you're not even excited about. If you came out here, you could do what you want to do. And..." Richie sat up now and looked at Eddie in a way Eddie hadn't been looked at since they were just two kids in an underground clubhouse. "And then we could be together. All the time." Almost unconsciously, Eddie took his hand and squeezed it.

"Okay."

"Eddie, really, I- wait, what?"

"Okay. I'll move."

"Wait, you're serious?"

"Yeah, were you not?"

"No, I was, I just-" Richie seized Eddie's face in his hands and kissed him, long and hard. "I didn't think you'd actually say yes."

"Think again, then. I'd hate to be predictable."

Six years later, Richie Tozier wakes up in the bedroom of his Santa Monica condo to the mid-morning sun streaming in through the window. He sits up and rolls his shoulders, wincing at the sharp cracking of his spine. He fumbles blindly for the bedside table, puts on his glasses, and looks at the empty left side of the bed. He yawns and then goes quiet, hearing the soft sprinkle of the shower coming from the bathroom.

"Morning!" He calls through a yawn. He is still not a morning person, even after living with one for the last six years (Eddie stayed with him during the move from New York, and never moved out).

"Morning, Rich," Eddie responds over the water. Richie feels as though his heart is going to explode. He is, for the first time in his forty-year existence on this earth, totally and completely happy. And then the phone lying facedown on the left nightstand starts ringing.

"It's yours, babe!" Richie reaches over and checks the screen. "Someone from... holy shit, it's someone from Derry!"

"Can you get it?" Feeling unsettled, somehow, Richie hits the _Accept Call _button and holds the phone to his ear.

"Hello?"

"Hi, is this Eddie Kaspbrak?"

"No, he's, uh... indisposed at the moment." From behind him, Richie hears the water shut off and the shower curtain slide aside. "Can I get your name so he knows who to call back?"

"Yeah, I guess. Tell him Mike Hanlon called, from Derry. He'll know-" But Mike doesn't have the chance to finish. Richie feels a wave of nausea slide over him.

"Mike?" There is a pause on the other end of the line. Then:

"...Richie?"

"Holy shit, Mike."

"Who is it?" Richie jumps and turns around to see Eddie, who has come up behind him. Richie swallows hard and covers the receiver with one hand.

"It's Mike. Hanlon." Eddie looks confused for a moment, and then shock and horror register on his face.

"Holy- Mike?" Richie holds the phone up to his ear.

"Uh, Mike, Eddie's back, I'm gonna put you on speaker." He does, and holds the phone out between them. Eddie sits on the edge of the bed, water still dripping out of his hair and landing in dark dots on the bedspread.

"Hey, Mike." Eddie's voice is startled, but not scared. Not yet.

"Hi, Eddie. I'm glad to see that some of us stayed friends after we left." Richie and Eddie look knowingly at one another.

"Yeah, something like that."

"Anyway, I bet you're wondering why I'm calling."

"Yeah," Eddie responded. He does sound scared now. In fact, he sounds exactly like he had 27 years ago. And that's when Richie remembers. 27 years.

"It's back, isn't It?" He asks, interrupting whatever Mike had been saying.

"...yeah. It is." Eddie makes a strangled noise and lunges for the nightstand drawer, where he keeps his inhaler. He hasn't used it in 21 years, but he still keeps it there in case of emergency. He takes two quick gasps off of it and exhales slowly. Richie reaches over and slips his hand into Eddie's.

"And we need to come back."

"Yeah."

"Fuck," Richie mutters under his breath. "How soon?" He asks, wishing he had just hung up the phone when he heard who it was.

"Tomorrow. Everyone needs to come back, guys. Everyone." Richie rubbs the bridge of his nose and looks over at Eddie, who is staring, wide-eyed, right back at him. They both nod and look back at the phone.

"We'll be there," Eddie says, sounding only a little less muffled than before. Before Mike can get another word in, Richie hangs up the phone and stands, pacing the room, his hair standing up in frantic spikes.

"This is stupid. We shouldn't go. We should just take off, go to Buenos Aires or Madagascar or Iceland- Iceland's nice this time of year, right?"

"Richie." Eddie's voice is even now, and calm. "We have to go." He speaks haltingly as he rises to his feet and takes both of Richie's hands in his.

"I know." Richie smiles bitterly. "I know." He laughs, a caustic, harsh sound. "I guess I'll cancel our dinner reservations, then."

"I'll start packing."

"Don't worry about that. I've got it. Get dressed and then we'll make a plan. Okay?" Eddie smiles gratefully at him and kisses him gently before standing up and returning to the bathroom. Richie is hit with the same wave of vertigo and barely manages to stumble out onto the terrace before vomiting over the railing. He wipes his mouth and stares out at the crashing ocean in front of him. They will go to Derry and their life together will never be the same. Of that, he's sure. But he's also sure of one other thing, and that's that he loves Eddie Kaspbrak like he's never loved anyone else ever before. He goes back inside and pulls two suitcases out of the closet. He begins packing, and when Eddie comes out of the bathroom, he joins him.

They load the suitcases into Richie's Mustang and get in the car, not looking at each other. Then Richie gasps and opens the door. "I forgot my, uh, my toothbrush. Give me just a minute." Eddie smiles and nods, but it's a sad smile. Richie races back inside and up the stairs, not bothering with the elevator. He digs through the nightstand, still open from Eddie's mad scramble for his inhaler, and finds what he's looking for under a stack of self-help books (a sarcastic Christmas gift). He slips the tiny wooden box into his pocket and silently thanks God that Eddie didn't see it.

"Did you get it?"

"Yeah," Richie says, and smiles. He leans across the console to kiss Eddie again, then starts the car. "Let's go home." Eddie looks out the window thoughtfully as the city fades into wilderness and back again a dozen times. Derry isn't their home anymore, he thinks. But neither is Los Angeles or New York. Their home is with each other now. And it always will be.


End file.
